


Soaring hearts

by Evil_Keshi



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Airplanes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Meetings, Fluff, Love at First Sight, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 16:43:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18782143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Keshi/pseuds/Evil_Keshi
Summary: Jon's plan to kill time while on the plane was fairly simple: sleep. He had not expected a scared flyer to ruin it for him, though... But Jon wasn't actually complaining.





	Soaring hearts

**Author's Note:**

> There aren't enough Jonmund modern AU's and those boys deserve to be happy so here, have a fluffy modern AU! Enjoy your reading!

  


Jon collapsed on his seat with a huge, tired sigh and slowly put his hands on the armrests on each side of the seat. The solid plastic underneath his fingertips proved that he'd made it in time, even though he'd half-expected the plane to take off without him. By some miracle named _Robb and his fast car_ though, he'd managed to arrive at the airport and board his plane before it was too late.

Jon knew that he would have been the only one to blame if he had indeed missed his flight to Berlin: he'd heard his alarm, that much he remembered, but then... Well. He'd sort of snuggled under the blanket rather than facing the cold morning air on the way between his bed and his shower (in his defence, he slept in his underwear and hated the sensation of cool air on his thighs) and... he'd fallen asleep again.

Of course he'd missed the airport shuttle, he'd realised once he'd waken up, for good this time, and a panicky phone call to his brother had been his last resort before he had to cancel with the business partners in Berlin - and, Robb be blessed, he'd actually made it!

The plane would take off before long and Jon, more than ready to catch a few more minutes of sleep while in the airs, put on his belt and slid down the seat just so he was comfortable, arms crossed against his chest and head slightly tilted back. He stretched his legs beneath the seat in front of him and as the flight attendants gave the last explanations and warnings before takeoff, Jon closed his eyes.

He had known he would be bothered at some point by a screaming kid or someone snoring too loudly: planes weren't the best place to choose if you longed for peaceful sleep. Still, Jon hadn't foreseen that someone would interrupt his well-deserved rest barely five seconds after he'd closed his eyes.

"Excuse me," a man said, his voice hoarse though not aggressive, "I'm sitting over there."

Lifting one eyelid, Jon quickly opened both eyes once he saw a red-haired man who a) was much taller than him, especially since Jon was slouching in his seat, and b) managed the feat of looking self-confident as well as incredibly awkward all at the same time... Not to forget that c) he was breathtakingly handsome, in his thick but soft-looking navy sweater, with wooden buttons on the side of the neck. The man was also pointing at the empty seat between Jon and the porthole of the plane.

"Y... yes," Jon stammered, hoping the man hadn't realised that he was staring, and he quickly brought his legs back under his own seat so that the giant could squeeze between the rows and sit on his right.

"Thanks," the man said.

Jon nodded with a smile but he didn't pay the redhead much attention after that: he really wanted to sleep, with or without someone else next to him, and he only hoped that the man wouldn't snap a picture of him sleeping with his mouth wide open to show his friends later. Tired as he was however, Jon couldn't relax for long. As soon as the plane started to move down the runway and speed up, ready to take off, he felt the redhead by his side stiffen.

"Holy fucking shit," he groaned.

Jon was about to send a nasty glare at him for his bad language - he was sure he'd spotted a kid in the row before theirs - when he noticed how pale the man looked. White as a sheet, his knuckles about to crack with how tight his fists were curled in his lap, his jaw clenched as he cast anxious glances through the square window. Oh.

"Nervous flyer?" Jon asked with kindness as well as a hint of hesitation, for he didn't know how his comment would be received.

It took a while for the man to realise that Jon was talking to him at all but when he did, he made a visible effort to smooth his features in a facade of calmness - with very little result, since the plane suddenly jumped as it bumped into rougher spots of the runway.

"Fucking hell," the redhead grumbled, abandoning all pretence of feeling at ease, before he glanced at Jon and admitted, "I'm no nervous flyer. I'm a first-time flyer."

"Will you be okay?"

"Yes," he said gruffly, "Maybe not. I don't know. Do you mind talking to me for a little while? Until we're up?"

"Sure," Jon answered.

He couldn't even bring himself to be mad at this giant but scared man for ruining his plans of sleeping the journey away. Jon couldn't just ignore his nervousness and let him deal with it by himself, it would just be cruel - and Jon wasn't a cruel man. Robb kept telling him he was too kind and would probably regret it one day.

"I'm Jon," he introduced himself with a smile that he hoped appeasing, and then he offered his hand for the man to shake.

"Tormund," the redhead said, drowning Jon's hand in his larger palm, his fingertips warm against his skin.

Jon had perfect timing as it turned out, for the plane suddenly left the ground and Tormund tightened his grip on his hand, nearly crushing the bones in the process as he glanced through the window and saw how fast they were rising in the air.

"Shit, shit, shit!"

"Relax," Jon told him, leaning forward so that he could pull down the shade with his free hand. "Take a deep breath."

"I am relaxed!" Tormund protested, although he was quick to add, "Talk to me?"

"I'm going to Berlin for business," Jon blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "I nearly missed my flight but thanks to my brother, I won't be brutally murdered by my boss so... That's a victory."

Tormund chuckled, so Jon refrained just in time from describing his boss. A smile, as shaky as it was, looked good on the redhead and he didn't want it to crumple once he'd heard about Alliser Thorne. Honestly, merely picturing himself announcing to his boss that his plane had taken off without him was enough for Jon to break into a cold sweat. The man was an asshole, a frightening one, and he couldn't wait for his internship to be over so that he could find another job, with friendlier and better people.

"What about you?" he wondered, "Why Berlin?"

"I'm not actually going to Berlin," Tormund said, looking like he was finally loosening up a little bit.

Jon blinked. Not going to... Wait a minute. Was he in the right plane? He blinked again, staring at Tormund and his nice beard in disbelief, before it turned into panic. In his haste to board on time, had he messed up the gate at the airport? Boarded the wrong plane? Oh God, Thorne was going to _destroy_ him.

"Don't tell me this isn't the plane to Germany," he pleaded, already planning his last phone call to his family and friends. "I'm so dead."

"What?" Tormund gave a rumbling laugh, "Aye, it is! Just, I have a connection to Reykjavik in Berlin. I'm not staying in Germany."

Jon looked at him without saying a word, too relieved that he had not been completely useless while running inside the airport to react, but Tormund misunderstood his expression for confusion.

"Reykjavik," he repeated, slowly. "That's in Iceland."

"I know where it is," Jon grumbled, feeling the tips of his ears burn when Tormund laughed at him. "Shut up."

He should have been mortified that he'd just ordered a perfect stranger to shut up but the man only laughed harder, his whole body shaking with mirth. Ha ha. He wondered whether he would keep mocking him if Jon pointed out that he was still clutching onto his hand. He didn't though, but only because he was a good man - also, Tormund's hand was big and warm. He liked it.

"Y... you should have s... seen your face," the redhead hiccupped, "You looked like a kicked puppy."

"My dog taught me," Jon deadpanned, which only turned Tormund's bubbly laughter a bit louder.

It was true, though, that Ghost had mastered the puppy eyes like no other dog before him, something Jon took pride in - ridiculously so, according to Robb, who was just bitter that Grey Wind couldn't do it as well as Ghost did.

"You're funny," Tormund said, bringing Jon back to the present, "I like you."

"I bet you do," Jon scoffed, as he could still hear discreet giggling in his voice, "You probably even wished I could keep you company on your _second flight_ , don't you?"

"That's a low blow," Tormund accused him with a wince. "I don't look forward to that other flight. Men were made to stay on the ground, not go in the fucking sky!"

"Men have always been fascinated with space, though," Jon pointed out.

"Aye, and for what? What can you do in a plane anyway? You can't get drunk, you can't fuck, you can't do anything entertaining!"

"You can meet perfect strangers who are scared of flying though," Jon shot back, "and I think that's plenty entertaining."

Tormund snorted.

"Yeah, and strangers scared of their boss," he added. "We make quite the pair."

They both chuckled and Jon couldn't help but stare a bit more carefully at Tormund. His face was slightly coloured by now, as he'd stopped focusing so much on the fact that he was on a plane. The pilot had since long switched off the seatbelt light above their heads, meaning they were now cruising and could totally relax, but if Tormund had realised that the signal wasn't lit anymore, he didn't mention it.

His hand remained closed around Jon's and even though he'd loosened his grip quite a bit as they spoke, he didn't seem to have noticed that he was still holding onto him. Jon wasn't complaining. It was impressive to realise how fast they'd clicked, going from an hesitant _nervous flyer?_ to openly teasing each other, and Jon liked it.

He knew the flight to Berlin wouldn't last forever but he couldn't bring himself to remember that, not now, not yet, because there was so much of Tormund to discover and he didn't want to think that they only had a few hours to themselves. He felt like they deserved better than that.

"So..." he prompted Tormund again, suddenly afraid to lose precious seconds with him, "Reykjavik?"

"Aye," the redhead kindly took the bait, his blue eyes suddenly sparkling, "I'm visiting a friend. Karsi used to be the one coming to see me but she gave birth to a little girl two weeks ago so this time, I'm making the trip North. I'm the kid's godfather."

"Congratulations!" Jon exclaimed, genuinely happy for him, "You must be so proud!"

"I am," Tormund preened, "I've only seen pictures so far and I can't wait to finally hold her."

That last comment did it for Jon. Imagining Tormund, tall and burly as he was, holding a baby in his arms with a soft look of his face had him melting and wishing he could see it with his own two eyes and really, it was a stupid thought... but he already knew it would haunt him.

Tormund proceeded on showing him a few pictures of his goddaughter on his phone once Jon assured him that yes, he could use the device as long as it remained on airplane mode and in return, Jon showed him a few pictures of his family as well as his dog. They talked for the greater part of the flight, until Jon yawned so widely that Tormund insisted on shutting up for a while, just so the dark-haired man could sleep at least a few minutes.

Jon didn't want to. He wanted to keep talking with Tormund and hearing him laugh, even if he had to fight to keep his eyes open. Jon didn't realise he'd actually fallen asleep until he woke up at the sound of the seatbelt signal being switched back on, warning them of their upcoming landing.

His eyelids slowly fluttered open and he scrunched his nose at the light, in desperate need of a few seconds to adjust and remember where he was and with whom, until he felt the thick shoulder under his cheek and spotted a beard from the corner of his eye. Tormund. Acting as a solid but comfy pillow. Oops.

"Sorry," Jon mumbled, sitting up straight, his mouth dry and his sight still a bit blurry. "Didn't realise I was slipping on you."

"No problem," Tormund said, "it's not like you were crushing me. Besides, I stole your hand, so it's only fair you stole my shoulder."

Tormund raised their hands that were still joined and though Jon's was starting to cramp up a bit, he wouldn't have broken free for any reason. Not to mention that they would be landing soon, so Tormund still needed his support... Right? Right.

That was confirmed when the plane began to lose altitude and it made their stomachs swoop and their ears pop, and a fresh wave of nervousness overwhelmed Tormund, who tightened his grip on Jon's hand again. If he'd been less kind, Jon would have laughed at him, this big man who was afraid of flying, but to tell the truth it was quite incredibly endearing.

"I'm going to die," the redhead whispered after pulling up the shade to see the land coming closer and closer, "How can you stand it?"

"I'm used to it, I guess?" Jon answered with a shrug. "It will be over soon, don't worry."

And it was. Soon the plane landed without trouble, pushing a deep breath of relief out of Tormund's lungs, and then they were standing up, their hands finally falling back to their sides, alone and cold. Jon felt a pang in his chest at the acute loss, that wasn't only physical. It meant so much more... It was probably the first and last time they were seeing each other, two strangers that fate had randomly reunited for a fleeting moment.

The mood changed as they left the plane and went to collect their luggage, a sort of heavy tension that they were unable to cut through, not knowing what to say... It would either be too much or not enough. Besides, Tormund didn't have much time before his next flight so Jon walked with him to the security checkpoint in silence, shuffling his feet as they came closer to the time of their separation.

"So..." Jon said, trailing off with an awkward chuckle.

"So," Tormund repeated.

They didn't say anything else, waiting for either one to take the first step, and Jon eventually stammered:

"T... Take care of yourself. I heard Iceland is cold."

"Colder than you can imagine," Tormund snorted. "Thank you. For... the emotional support."

"You're welcome," Jon answered with a tiny smile, although it was as big as he could manage while his heart crumpled in his chest.

Tormund nodded and turned away, but he took no more than three steps before he was coming back, his blue eyes steely with determination.

"Fuck it," he said, clasping Jon's hands in his own. "I'm in Reykjavik for a week. After that, I want to see you again."

"Yes!" Jon exclaimed, before he blushed and repeated on a quieter tone, "I mean... Yes, I... I'd like that. Very much."

"Good," Tormund said, sighing when the call for passengers to Reykjavik resounded through the airport. "Phone, quick."

Jon complied, feeling giddy as Tormund's fingers typed the digits with feverish excitement, and then the man returned the phone with a grin.

"See you in one week, pretty boy," he said to Jon, before he laughed and turned around, showing his plane ticket to the security guard so he could head for his boarding gate.

Cheeks burning at the affectionate and teasing nickname, Jon watched Tormund go with a heavy heart, although the prospect of their upcoming reunion was a soothing balm on the tiny crack in the depths of his chest. It helped all the more that Tormund, before he had to round a corner and disappear from Jon's life, however briefly, looked back to flash him one last grin... and blow him a kiss, that startled a laugh out of Jon's throat and had him swooning right there and then.

Those seven days couldn't pass fast enough.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading until the end! Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments, I'd love to know what you thought about the story. I also have a question for you: would you be interested in reading a modern royalty AU with enemies to lovers Jonmund? Asking for a friend ;)


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